


(Awful) Legends

by HowardR



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bad Decisions, Crimes & Criminals, Crimes., Crimes?, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Insanity, Love, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Possessive Behavior, Romantic Gestures, Sorry Not Sorry, Tragic Romance, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: They're loving and happy and totally awful for each other.
Relationships: Mae Borowski/Greggory Lee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	(Awful) Legends

Mae Borowski and Gregg Lee become town terrors.

They liked to think of themselves as town terrors, before. But they were really just vaguely known nuisances.

Now they were terrors.

Mae was halfway insane at this point, and she had a lot of fun being halfway insane. She had totally snapped the day of the softball game and never quite went back to the way she was. A part of her was still a child - a bigger part of her was still seeing nothing but shapes.

Gregg loved Mae with all his heart. He also knew that this relationship was awful in every way, and that he absolutely couldn’t let it go. It latched claws into him, seeped into his blood. There was so much there - it was easier not to feel all of it.

Sometimes he still did - the nights he laid awake and thought he should cut ties with Mae. That this was tearing them both apart. Sometimes, when he really thought of what it would be like to tear those claws out of his flesh, he really did feel all of it.

The desperate lust. The maniacal, feverish passion. The true insanity that was festering. The possessiveness. Deeper down, there was even real, genuine love - quiet, and peaceful, rarely raising its head.

He and Mae were awful for each other. But Mae didn’t seem to realize or care, and Gregg… 

Gregg couldn’t bring himself to tear those claws out. He knew he would end up better if he just ripped the band-aid off - knew that the longer this went on, the worse its end would be - but Mae’s eyes were lit with that special kind of awful feverish ecstasy, and that wonderful genuine love, and some part of him just…  _ couldn’t. _

Most nights, though, he didn’t feel all of it. He felt parts of it, in turn. The giddy intensity of every moment they spent together, committing crimes for the hell of it and never quite getting caught. Worse and worse things, things Gregg was having a harder and harder time justifying as ‘just fun’.

He felt it in parts, because it was too much to feel at once.

The air crackled when they ran together in the dead of night. They bounced ideas of each other like the world’s most hellish game of ping-pong, and their unique kind of intellect shined in the nighttime light. Mae would grin so widely, all teeth and glinting danger, and Gregg would grin back, all sharp edges and giddy manicism.

The desperate, drunken victory-lust in a crime well done. The delirium of their genius, drinking the fruits of their effort.

Then came the lust. Always, Mae would be the first - the one to pounce on him, eyes desperate and wide and not quite sane.

The fumbling, desperate lust of people who aren’t sure how long they have until they’re caught. The possessive, greedy lust of someone who never wants to let go.

They would usually pass out quickly.

But - very rarely, mind you - there would be love.

It was always in the quiet moments. The post-sex haze, sometimes - though Mae very rarely floated in that headspace for long enough to let the love truly rise to the surface. No, more often it was after a crime. When they would dash off into the woods, legs light and heads lighter, and laugh and laugh at their victims.

Then they would collapse against a tree. The exhaustion would hit them, as the pumping adrenaline slowly seeped away and left simply heavy, panting breaths, slowly growing easier.

And Mae would burrow into him, and hold him like he was the only steady thing in the whole world.

It reminded him of the day after the softball game.

She would smile - the gentle one. The loving one. Without any of the fervent passion or maniacal edges. She would smile, soft and quiet and  _ sane. _

She would whisper that she loved him. And her tone would finally be completely  _ her _ \- not that half-sane creature he broke glass with, not that being of chaos with a smile like stained knives.

Just Mae Borowski, tired and happy and loving.

He would hold her back, and say that he loved her, too.

And then, the next day, the love would be gone. The next day, there would only be glinting half-sanity again.

And the crimes would begin anew.


End file.
